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Janis wasn't the worst foster mom Nate had. She wasn't the best either, but Nate was used to having bad foster parents. Nobody could handle him, and when he finally read the letter his mom left with him, it all made sense. His father was Boogieman. Of course, his foster parents were nightmares; he was a nightmare.
The current apartment seemed the perfect place to find the boogieman; it was dark, a little creepy and had a lot of shadowy corners a boogieman could jump out of. So when Janis wasn't watching, when she wasn't on a tirade, Nate went looking. He might not have found his dad yet, but there were a lot of places he could be hiding. He’d done enough research on the boogieman that it freaked out one of his teachers.
He was climbing out of a dark supply closet at the top floor when the janitor caught him. The janitor was short like Nate and creepy, but Nate wasn’t scared. His dad was the boogieman—he had to be the scariest thing out there.
The janitor looked at Nate halfway out of the supply closet and glanced into the dark behind him like he expected to see something incriminating.
“What are you doing?"
Nate's face burned. He was almost as embarrassed as when he was caught whispering into the dark under his bed when he'd first learned who his father was. He puffed up trying to pretend it wasn't weird. “I was just looking for someone."
The janitor glanced back in the closet and raised his eyebrow. "I don't think you'll find them in there.”
“I'm just looking," Nate snapped.
“Sure, kid."
Nate stormed off.
It wasn't the last time he had an embarrassing encounter with the janitor while he was looking for his dad. In fact, it started to become a thing. Nate would look in the dark corners for the boogieman at night, and the janitor would find him with an amused look, and Nate would get defensive, and leave.
And then the janitor found him hiding in a dark corner after one of Janis's fit, the bruise on his cheek already healing. He always healed fast, and as long as nobody saw it before it healed, nobody would know he was a super too.
The janitor saw it.
“Where'd you get that?" He growled. His eyes glowed, and Nate could feel the fear radiating off him like a nightmare and something… warm he couldn’t identify. People didn’t like him, let alone get protective of him. The boogieman was his dad.
“It's nothing." He turned away from the janitor hiding the bruise. “Just a trick of the light."
The janitor crouched in front of him, turning his head back to look. “Not a trick of the light. Did your mother do this? Is that what you've been doing? Hiding from her?"
Nate scowled, “She’s not my mom! And it's none of your business."
He took off again.
That night, Janis had really bad nightmares. Nate could hear her scream. His foster siblings huddled against him. She was going to be a nightmare the next day. His foster siblings were more vulnerable than him. And this was his fault. (A small part of him wondered if maybe his dad was nearby causing nightmares, but he knew it was always just him causing it.)
So, Nate stayed awake. He quietly scavenged food for his foster siblings before Janis woke up and slipped them out. It was a big apartment, but Nate could hear things if he concentrated.
Maybe purposefully going to the janitor with his foster siblings after last night was equally embarrassing as looking for his dad under the bed, but the janitor made him feel… safe.
His foster siblings apparently did not feel the same way when he found the janitor. They glared at him and announced that they had some friends they were hanging out with today. Nate didn’t call them liars. And he definitely didn’t pout at them leaving him with the janitor who was eyeing his bruise free cheek.
“If you’re hanging around me, you’re helping.”
So, Nate spent the day sulking and helping the janitor, vacuuming and cleaning windows. The janitor didn’t say anything about the missing bruise (Nate thought he might’ve caught the janitor floating to change a lightbulb, but it was only out of the corner of his eye), and he shared his lunch with Nate. It was quiet, and Nate didn’t really want to leave as night approached.
He left anyways. If the janitor knew who his dad was, stayed around Nate for too long, it’d be the same story as every other foster home.
His foster siblings were already back when he got there to Janis’s scowls. He ducked back into the room without a word even though he could feel the anger under his skin like a brewing storm.
“You hang out with the janitor?” One of his foster brothers sneered at him in the room. They weren’t normally mean to each other, but it looked like it was a bad day for everyone. It was probably Nate’s fault.
Nate glared at him. Screw this. He was going to find his dad tonight. Somehow.
“You should be sleeping, kid." The janitor's voice pulled Nate out of his search.
“I'm looking for someone," Nate snapped. “Are you always working?"
The janitor shrugged. “I don't mind it. Except when brats are ruining my day. Who are you looking for?"
“You wouldn't believe me."
The janitor snorted, “Kid, we live in a world where some people can stop tanks with their bare hands. And with how fast that bruise healed, I'd say you're one of them."
“I told you it was a trick of the light."
The janitor snorted. “Sure kid. So who are you looking for?"
Nate stared at the ground. He'd never told anybody, almost certain he'd get made fun of, or get those looks. But the janitor didn't know, he wasn't stuck in the same house as him. Maybe it would be okay. And maybe, he also wanted to tell him, wanted to believe that someone would help him find his dad. A janitor probably saw lots of things at night. Maybe he could find Boogieman, tell him that his son was looking for him. And maybe, part of him also really wanted to talk to someone—to the janitor—about his secret.
“I'm looking for the boogieman.”
Surprise flashed across the janitor’s face followed by something Nate didn’t quite catch. “The boogieman? Why would you want to find the boogieman? Thought kids were scared of him.”
Nate flushed. It was a stupid idea to tell him. Of course, the janitor would make fun of him. What kid in their right mind would believe the boogieman was their dad? Would even want him as their dad? What kid spends hours looking into anything they can find about the boogieman in hope it would provide clues on how to find him? Disturbed ones, according to his teacher. At least he hadn’t already spilled that he thought the boogieman was his dad.
“Forget it.”
The janitor caught Nate before he could storm off again.
“I’m not going to forget it. What are you looking for the boogieman for?” The janitor sounded too gentle, and Nate HATED it. Adults weren’t nice. They didn’t care. And they certainly didn’t like him.
“Because he’s my dad!” Nate screamed trying to get out of the man’s hold.
The janitor’s hold loosened enough for Nate to break out of the minute the words left his mouth, because of course it would. Who would really believe the boogieman even had kids?
The next day was worse. Nate woke up feeling angry and prickling like there was a storm in the air. Janis drug them to that stupid Anti-Super-Society meeting. And Nate saw the janitor as he was dragged out to the car, could see the way the janitor looked angry, the watchful way his eyes didn’t leave them even when they were far away.
And then there was the cloud. A dark storm cloud just hung over the Anti-Super Society meeting, a literal cloud. The meetings were usually rough for Nate. They didn’t test the kids to see if they were supers. Kids couldn't be supers—not “the good kids" here. Adaptively, he'd participated in the super hate to blend, to not have them look twice at him. But he was already in a bad mood, and he was pretty sure the cloud had followed them here.
“What are you staring at?” Janis snapped. “Pay attention.”
She barely glanced at the storm cloud like it wasn’t important, but Nate couldn’t keep his eyes off of it, especially when the stupid leader got really into all that supers are evil spiel. The cloud felt angry, but not in a way that scared Nate, it felt like it was the same anger Nate used to feel when he started being dragged to this meetings.
The cloud followed them back home. Rob and Paul had started noticing it, too. They looked more freaked out though. Because Nate was weird and didn’t get scared of the things he should.
“Hey kid.” The janitor was waiting for Nate when he slipped out that night. He hadn’t even been sure he wanted to talk to the janitor after last night, after what happened today.
“Hey.”
“Bad dreams?”
“Not really. I don’t get them that much.” He didn’t get exactly happy dreams either.
The janitor nodded like it made perfect sense. “How do you know the boogieman is your father anyway? He didn’t just drop by and tell you.”
“My mom left a letter.”
He snorted, and Nate snapped. “She did! I found it. And I’m going to find him too.”
“Course you are, kid.” The janitor sounded too gentle. “Leaving a letter… it’s not going to reach the boogieman. He could be anywhere.”
“I know.”
The janitor reached over and ruffled his hair. Nate scowled at him. “Your mother shouldn’t treat you like that.”
Nate frowned. “I don’t know my mom. Just the letter and that she left me on a bench in the park at night.”
The janitor let out something that sounded suspiciously like a choked laugh. “For your dad to find.”
“Just leave it.”
“So the woman you’re with…”
“My foster mom.”
The janitor nodded. “You really do need your sleep, kid. I’ll keep an eye out for the boogieman tonight, okay? And I’ll let him know he’s got a son looking for him.”
Nate eyed him skeptically. “I don’t want to go back tonight.”
“Because of where your foster mother took you? Look, you can sleep here,” the janitor pointed to a little chair under the window at the end of the hall.
Nate was tired and cranky, and he didn’t want to go back to the apartment. So he laid down on the little couch watching the janitor work until he drifted off.
He woke up in an unfamiliar place that looked more like an serial killer’s layer than the hallway he’d fallen asleep in. He bolted up in panic.
“Relax, kid. Your dad’s got you. You’re not transforming yet, so we’ll need a place for you to stay while you grow.”
Nate stared at the janitor. “Transform? My dad—”
“I’m the boogieman, kid.” He shifted into having claws and sharp teeth, into something more like the boogieman pictures Nate had found.
“Nate. My name’s Nate.” He didn’t quite believe that he’d actually found his dad, that he was standing here right now, that he hadn’t realized he was talking to the boogieman all this time. “Why are you janitor? Don’t have people to torment? Nightmares to spread?”
“In this day and age? Not really. They cause they’re own nightmares; they don’t need me. Besides, I like being a janitor. Most of the time people don’t notice me.”
“What about the others?”
“Others?”
“My foster siblings. I can’t just leave them there. Janis, she…”
The boogieman’s expression darkened. “She take you kids to that meeting often.”
“Meeting? Wait… you were the cloud!”
Boogieman laughed. “Yeah, kid. We’re water-based shifters. It’s a lot easier to move around as a cloud.”
“You were following me!”
“I didn’t know I had a kid until you said I was your dad! And I’ve seen the way she treated you. I wasn’t going to leave you there.”
“You’re a super, aren’t you? Can’t you do something about it?”
Boogieman got quiet for a moment before gently telling him, “We’re legends, kid. A league above those tight wearing supers you see flying around. We don’t work in the same system; we’ve got different rules. Sure, I could storm in there, rain on their parade, give them nightmares for week. But I step too much out of line, and they’ll put me in front of the council. I’ve got you now, an heir. You’re safe from them.”
“Then what about the supers?” Nate asked.
“What about the norms?” Boogieman countered.
“They don’t care. There was a foster kid that spilled about it, and they moved him, but left the rest of us. I’m not going to be like him. And if you don’t do something, then I’ll… I won’t be your heir!”
Boogieman let out something like a growl. “Fine. We’ll go tell those tight wearing supers and leave it for them to deal with.”
“And get a proper house, not—” A drop of water landed on Nate’s nose as if to prove his point.
Boogieman laughed.
“We just walk in and ask to speak to them?” Nate whispered to his dad as they stared at the Hall.
“Should work. I’m not a super, kid; I don’t pay attention to how their whole system works. Let’s get those over with.”
Boogieman pushed open the door to the hall, and Nate followed him in, staring at the giant statue of Superior in the middle of the lobby.
“That’s a bit…”
“Egotistical?” Boogieman offered, staring up at the statue in distaste.
Nate laughed in agreement.
There were a few norms around, giving them a weird look. A couple of black suits stood around, blocking access to the behind the scenes… for the norms. Boogieman could get back there. It might be a bit harder with the kid.
“Boogieman, is it?” An Asian man asked, walking up to him with purpose. A super.
“Are you…” Nate trailed off with wide eyes, looking up at the man. “You read minds.”
The man smiled down at him. “Mastermental. And yes, I can read minds.”
“You know what we’re here for then?” Boogieman cut in, ready to get this over with and go back to his basement with his heir.
“I have an idea. Shall we take this back to my office?” He gestured back to where one of the black suits was blocking an entrance.
“Can you do something?” Nate challenged.
“We have some connections.”